


The world turns colder

by Starishadow



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Canon Era, M/M, mostly about enjolras combeferre and courfeyrac's friendship, while one of them is dying at the barricade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 14:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7272502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starishadow/pseuds/Starishadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac had always been the cheerful one, the warm, bright one, so the fact that his last moments were quiet, cold and dark felt unreal and possibly even more painful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The world turns colder

Courfeyrac had always been the cheerful one, the warm, bright one, so the fact that his last moments were quiet, cold and dark felt unreal and possibly even more painful.  
Enjolras was standing at the barricade, hidden as he watched the shapes of the soldiers in the night - a short, silent and unannounced break gladly accepted by both sides. When he heard a sharp cry from a familiar voice that made his blood turn into ice, he span around and ran towards the source.  
It was Combeferre’s voice he had heard, coming from somewhere in the back of the barricade, but when he reached him and saw him standing close to the entrance to the Corinth with no apparent injury on him, he stopped abruptly, feeling the relief that had followed that sight leave from him as soon as the other man fell to his knees next to someone else.  
The blond didn’t have to get closer to know who it was: he could already tell from catching a glimpse of dark curls, from the way the person was curling up closer to Combeferre, and he recognized his voice from the small, whimpering noises that came from him.  
His head started spinning as he walked slowly towards his two best friends, his brothers, not fully ready for what he knew was going to happen.  
Courfeyrac was strangely quiet, only those pained, choked noises left his lips together with an alarming amount of blood, although they could see the other was trying to hold them back.  
His face was twisted in pain, his hand had found Combeferre’s and was holding on to it while his eyes searched for the other man’s ones before slowly moving to Enjolras as the other kneeled next to him as well.  
Combeferre was whispering something while he tried to gently move Courfeyrac, his free hand pressing against the wound on Courfeyrac’s abdomen, but it was no use, and Enjolras was sure the other knew it as well. That didn’t stop him from trying, one hand getting soaked in the wounded man’s blood and the other still clutching at his cold, trembling hand, their fingers intertwined.  
Locking eyes with Courfeyrac, Enjolras knew there were many, many things the man wanted to say, but his voice wouldn’t come to him, so he would’ve needed someone to speak for him.  
«Combeferre, leave it», he whispered, putting a hand on his best friend’s shoulder, squeezing it when the other man only shook his head while muttering something incoherently. «My friend, there’s no use!».  
The man’s eyes snapped shut behind his glasses, he shook his head again, harder, biting his lips.  
«M-Maybe if I…», Combeferre was still mumbling to himself, helplessly looking for a way to stop what was unavoidably coming, but this time it was Courfeyrac’s hand to stop his speech, and Combeferre brought his eyes on him once again, a look of horror and agony on his face that seemed to mirror that of the man lying on the ground. «I’m sorry», he whispered, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead, while Enjolras got a hold of Courfeyrac’s free hand and squeezed it as well, at loss of words, dread and pain filling his stomach and rising to his chest.  
«D-Don’t be».  
Both the blond and the bespectacled man jumped a bit at how tired, weak and small the voice sounded, nothing like Courfeyrac’s usual tone. Combeferre was crying now, no longer able to hold his tears from falling from his face, and Enjolras had started shaking, staring at Courfeyrac with a silent plea.  
“Don’t go”.  
He suddenly felt a wave of guilt hit his stomach like a punch, more painful than any other wound he had endured till then. He went still, his eyes unfocused, and almost forgot to breathe.  
Courfeyrac wouldn’t have been there if it hadn’t been for him. None of his friends that had died that day would have, if he hadn’t dragged them into this revolution.  
Or riot, for nobody but them seemed to have accepted it.  
“You haven’t dragged them, they believed in this as much as you did”, he tried to tell himself, forcing himself to take a deep breath. “They knew what could happen”.  
Did they, though?  
The doubt was eating him, his head no longer able to distinguish between rational thoughts and panic-induced ones.  
Had he been in the right state of mind, he would probably have realized that all of those thoughts were caused by the shock of witnessing most of his friends die that had finally caught up to him. He hadn’t stopped until then, hadn’t had the time to mourn them, but now that he was going to have to say goodbye to Courfeyrac, it all came crashing down on him.  
“Yes, they knew, they chose it anyway, they knew perfectly well they could die. They believed in the cause as much as you did”.  
“Maybe they knew, but they would’ve stopped and thought more if you hadn’t fueled them. They would’ve taken their chance and left. And now look at them!”.  
The two voices were loud in his head, preventing him to go back to reality, no matter how much he wanted to, it was like being paralyzed, but it was his brain that he couldn’t control, not his body.  
He took a small breath and forced himself to focus again on Courfeyrac, now cradled into Combeferre’s arms, his eyes closed but his cheeks wet with tears, his hold on their hands growing weaker.  
He tried to remember: had they ever have imagined it going so bad? His mind was rushing, thoughts climbing over each other, he spaced out once again.  
They had believed so much in the people, sure that they would’ve stood with them, joined them on the barricades, that the thought of being left alone… maybe it had crossed their minds, but just like the ghost of a fear, a dark, vague idea about something unlikely.  
And yet here they were.  
He probably should have expected Courfeyrac to try and get his attention again. No matter in how much pain the other was in, no matter how scared he must have been, the man was still looking out for his friend, and had understood that he was beating himself up over this in his head.  
Blood and tears were still choking him, but the words were clear in his eyes: stop it, this was not your fault. We were all ready for this.  
Enjolras squeezed his eyes shut, holding Courfeyrac’s hand tighter, barely registering Combeferre whispering something by his side.  
He wanted to say sorry, beg for his forgiveness, but he knew those weren’t the words his friend needed in that moment: he had already had his faith in the people taken from him, he had seen his friends fall before him, and now his own life was slipping away from him; no matter how much he tried not to let them see it, he was scared, they both felt it. Enjolras could only stare, his lips slightly parted and his jaw trembling.  
Combeferre had tightened his hold on the injured man, as if that could prevent him from leaving, now whispering in his ear comforting words, no longer trying to lie to the both of them: he couldn’t save Courfeyrac, and nobody could.  
It was when the dark-haired man screamed in pain and pressed himself against Combeferre, giving in to the fear and desperation but fighting to keep his eyes open and not stop breathing that Enjolras found the words he didn’t even know he had been looking for:  
«It’s alright», he whispered, scooting closer to him and gingerly pressing his lips against the back of his hand. «It will be alright, Vivien, let go. It won’t hurt anymore». It felt like ages since he had last used his friend’s first name, but he still cherished the feeling of intimacy that came with it.  
He saw Combeferre straighten his back a bit and nod, blinking his tears away:  
«He’s right, my dear, stop fighting it».  
Courfeyrac looked at them desperately, shaking his head, more scared than they had ever seen him since they were children, looking terribly young and frail.  
And suddenly, a memory hit Enjolras at full force: once, when they were children, they had decided to go explore the garden around Enjolras’ house - transformed into a huge, mysterious forest by their young imaginations, and Courfeyrac had managed to fall and break his arm, trying to laugh it off as soon as Enjolras and Combeferre had gone check on him and started fussing over him. He had done his best to hold back his tears and tell them not to worry, but the pain had had the better and soon he was crying in Combeferre’s arms as Enjolras stood looking around looking for some way to help before deciding to run and get one of their parents.  
He felt as useless as then, now, but it was much worse. This time it was not a broken limb, not something bandages and rest could fix.  
He almost sobbed realizing that there was no way he could help Courfeyrac, he could only stay there and watch him die, no matter how many times, years before, he had told him he would protect him and save him, making sure that his smile never fell from his lips.  
Childish promises, he had been so naive then.  
Combeferre whispering something in a urged voice brought him back to reality, in time to see Courfeyrac cough up more blood before looking up at them.  
There was a question in his eyes, clear like the sun although dimmed by the shadows of death and tears:  
“What was this all for?”.  
«I promise you», it took a moment for Enjolras to realize it was his own voice that he was hearing, and forced himself to make it sound stronger than he felt «I promise you this was not in vain».  
He held Courfeyrac’s gaze, hoping he could fool him, he could make him believe in his words again, one last time.  
«We will not allow it», Combeferre added, and he sounded sure, but also sad, and angry. He pulled Enjolras closer to them, and finally they felt Courfeyrac relax, gently pressed between the two of them.  
None of them was crying anymore, although their eyes were burning.  
Combeferre’s gaze was steady, Enjolras’ was calm, and Courfeyrac’s… although tired and almost closed, his eyes lit up again for a small moment, and he managed to give them a small, encouraging smile.  
It warmed their hearts while breaking them at the same time, and finally, the Center let his eyes flutter closed.  
«It’s alright», Combeferre repeated with his voice on the brink of breaking. «The others will be waiting for you, don’t be scared».  
It was impossible to say if he himself believed in his own words or if he was just trying to sound convincing and reassuring for the man in his arms, but either way, that seemed to work, and it was all that they needed right then.  
Enjolras didn’t trust his voice anymore, so he let his fingers convey his last message as he stroked carefully Courfeyrac’s curls and then moved to his cheek.  
«Thank you».  
It was barely a whisper, and when both Combeferre and Enjolras looked down to their friend, he was smiling again, and this time it was him comforting them.  
Because that was Courfeyrac: gentle, selfless and warm until the very end.  
The warmth still hadn’t left their hearts when he went limp in Combeferre's arms.  
«Vivien?», Combeferre’s voice was small and soft as he called his name and tried to shake him, hesitantly, already knowing there was no use in doing so, but not being able to help it.  
He already knew what he would find once he put his fingers on the other’s neck.  
No heartbeat. He was gone.  
He had to close his eyes and suck in air through his teeth, before a small sob escaped from his lips, followed by another. He leaned in and brushed his lips against Courfeyrac’s, pressing a last kiss on them.  
He wished they hadn’t shared their first one only the evening before, he wished he could’ve done something to prevent his lover’s death.  
He knew Enjolras was looking at him, he knew his best friend could feel he was crying, but all he got from the blond was a pained, understanding look and a firm hand on his shoulder.  
He almost lost it when someone came to take Courfeyrac’s body from him: he held on to it tighter, new tears bursting from his eyes as he begged to leave them alone, not to take him away.  
Nobody said a word, letting him cry and mourn, waiting patiently for the moment when he finally let them get a hold of Courfeyrac.  
He dried his eyes, before a open hand came into his eyesight, and looking up he could see Enjolras, his face serious and pain still clear in his eyes, but determined.  
They would not let it be in vain, they had promised.  
Combeferre nodded to himself before grabbing his best friend’s hand and let the blond drag him to his feet.  
They both felt lost and unsteady without Courfeyrac, but they walked once again towards the barricade, grabbing their weapons, and maybe their hold on them was a bit tighter than before. The fall of the barricade seemed always more unavoidable, but they had a promise to keep, it didn’t matter what it would take.  
A new warmth was growing inside them, sorrow mixing with rage and feeding their determination, but all around them, the rest of the world had already turned a little colder and a little darker.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the result of me trying to write something that is not a modern!AU, and I hope you liked it ^^" sorry for the angst... And I had to take a few poetic licences to make this happen, like I don't think Combeferre and Enjolras would actually have the time to gather around Courfeyrac in that moment and a few other things, I hope Victor Hugo and you guys will forgive me for this.  
> Most importantly, a huge "thank you" to halfahobbit (aka tumblr user mignonferre) for accepting to beta read this and help me a lot to improve it by asking the right questions and pointing out things that didn't work, and also for encouraging me to post it. I can't even express properly how grateful I am to you for all of this!!


End file.
